


Paint Can Only Cover the Rust

by notaguitarfret



Series: "They're all girlfriends" AU [27]
Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bulimia, Developing Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Illustration, Past Rape Mention, Sexual Assault Mention, forest lesbian, veronica is still a useless bisexual and she will never improve, what's duke's thing about taking girls into the woods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23012683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaguitarfret/pseuds/notaguitarfret
Summary: Heather Chandler agrees to help Veronica with her crush on Heather Duke, thinking that talking her up sounds like such a simple task.Except nothing is ever that simple, is it?
Relationships: Heather Chandler/Heather Duke, Heather Chandler/Veronica Sawyer, Heather Duke/Veronica Sawyer
Series: "They're all girlfriends" AU [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1053590
Comments: 17
Kudos: 192





	Paint Can Only Cover the Rust

_Dear Diary,_

_Day five of having a crush on Heather Duke._

_Why is she cute??? She’s tiny and yet she’s intimidating???? But also secretly kinda sweet and what??????? Still very baffled. Don’t know how to process feelings for people who you were childhood friends with. Wh_

“Dating your childhood friends isn’t that bad.”

“ _Ah!_ ”

Veronica slammed her diary shut at the sudden sound of Heather Chandler’s voice, right next to her ear. How she didn’t notice her looming over her shoulder, she had no idea.

“Ignore that last part,” she quickly said, being met with a curious gaze from Heather.

“You knew each other, huh?” She chuckled. “Is this why she didn’t like you being in the group at first?”

Veronica sighed in defeat. “Yes.”

“I don’t recall either of you mentioning that. When on earth were either of you friends?”

“Elementary school.”

“Huh. Would have thought you’d be friends with Dunnstock during elementary school.”

“I was.”

Chandler paused for a moment, before a smirk appeared on her red lips.

“Ah. Well, I can’t wait to bring that up in the next game of truths.”

Veronica groaned, shoving her diary into her bag and standing up from the steps.

“Heather, it’s Monday. Aren’t you supposed to be doing lunchtime poll right now?”

Heather’s grin faltered.

“I was,” she mumbled. “But the question was a little bit too specific for my liking, so I got Heather to do it.”

Veronica frowned. “What was the question?”

Scowling, Heather said, “If your friend was being sexually harassed by a boy, what do you think is the appropriate response?” Her voice was a snarl, understandably so. Veronica’s expression soured.

“That’s not a coincidence,” she growled.

“You think I don’t know that?” She groaned in frustration. “It’s like Fleming is determined to remind me about what happened even when I refuse to walk past her in the halls.”

Veronica offered a look of sympathy, stepping towards her to caress her arm.

“I’m sure they were just low on ideas for questions, so they decided to use that for this week’s topic.”

“Right.” Heather rubbed her arm, not looking so confident. Nevertheless, she shook the thought away and looked back at Veronica with a calm expression. “Anyway, why haven’t you come to the cafeteria yet?”

“I never write my diary where other people can see,” Veronica replied. “I’ll come now, though.”

The two of them began to walk, at first slowly.

“Oh, good, I thought you were being a coward and avoiding Heather.”

Veronica stopped in her tracks.

“No! No, I’m not avoiding Heather!”

Heather let out an exasperated sigh, spinning around to face her.

“You see, I was on board with believing you before you said that,” she said with amusement evident in her tone. Veronica averted her gaze, shrinking into her shoulders as she grew hot from embarrassment.

“It’s just… a little awkward.”

“To you, maybe,” Heather said. “‘Ronica, she’s completely fucking oblivious to your little infactuation with her.”

“Not if I can’t keep my cool,” Veronica retorted, catching up with her. “Which shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll be fine.”

“Right.” Heather rolled her eyes. “Well then, let’s go.”

Veronica nodded, following Heather to the cafeteria, whilst trying to soothe her frayed nerves. In her head, she repeated, _it won’t be hard, it won’t be hard, just speak to Heather like nothing happened. It won’t be hard._

Even though those words became more and more frequent in her mind, it did less and less to make her feel relaxed. Eventually, the double doors to the cafeteria was in her view, and she paused.

“Wait,” she said, causing Chandler to stop in her tracks. She was shot an irritated look.

“What now?”

“I… just need a second.” She inhaled, drawing out her breath for as long as she could, before finally releasing it. While it stopped her muscles from tensing up so much, it still didn’t stop the quickening heartbeat in her chest.

“Veronica, you’ll be fine,” Chandler grumbled as she impatiently tapped her foot against the ground. “I highly doubt she’d bring the kiss up, anyway.”

“I know, I’m just nervous.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about.” She marched over to her and grabbed her arm. “Now _come on_.”

“Wait, I’m not ready!”

“With that attitude you’ll never be ready,” Chandler retorted. “If you want your interactions to be normal, then act like nothing is wrong.”

With that, Veronica was unwillingly dragged into the cafeteria. It didn’t take much looking around for her eyes to land on Heather Duke, who was busy going from table to table for lunchtime poll. She didn’t take her eyes off her the whole way towards the food stand, and she hadn’t even realised until she felt hands grip her chin and turn her face back towards Chandler.

“Stop staring,” she told her. “You’re making it incredibly obvious.”

Chandler released her face, before turning her attention towards the queue in front of them. She heard her let out a sigh, before pulling Veronica towards the front. The poor soul standing there, about to place his tray down for the dinner ladies to drop a plate of slop on it, suddenly found himself subject to the icy glare of Heather. He froze in place, not taking another step to follow the line in front of him, allowing both Heather and Veronica (reluctantly) taking their places in front of him. They both grabbed their trays and were quick to get their lunches.

“Would it have killed you to wait in line?” Veronica sighed as they made their way back to the table.

“Yes. I hate waiting,” Chandler replied dryly. Veronica frowned.

“Or maybe you’re just in a bad mood,” she suggested, catching up to walk by her side. “Is something up?”

She was met with an eye roll.

“I’m just bitter about lunchtime poll,” she muttered, eyeing Heather Duke in the distance. Veronica gave her a sympathetic look.

“Hey, it likely won’t happen again.”

“That’s not it,” she growled. “It’s the fact that I couldn't bring myself to do it.” She glared at the floor. “It’s just a stupid question. Why was it so difficult to say out loud, nevermind say it over and over again?”

Veronica frowned. “It reminds you of something unpleasant. Not wanting to be reminded of that isn’t something to be ashamed of.”

Heather didn’t speak for a moment.

“Right,” she murmured. “I’m just lucky Heather was in a good enough mood to do it for me.”

Having arrived at their designated table, she took a seat opposite Mara, who looked up happily at them both.

“Hello!” she greeted them. Veronica returned a smile.

“Hey.”

“Oh hey, you found her.”

Veronica jolted at the sound of Duke’s voice, appearing behind her unexpectedly. She whipped her head around and locked eyes.

“Oh! Heather! Hello! Fancy seeing you here!” she spluttered. Duke looked at her oddly.

“...Yeah, hi,” she responded. “I usually sit here. Not sure if you noticed.”

“Oh, no, I did notice that-”

She was cut off by an elbow stabbing her in the arm. She looked at Chandler, who was shooting her a _“shut the fuck up”_ glare. Veronica’s lips closed right away.

“Is that all the tables done?” Chandler spoke up as Duke sat down. Opposite Veronica. Fuck.

Duke nodded. “Pretty much. I got quite a few answers. Some of them I didn’t write down.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because boys answered them.” She rolled her eyes. “And by boys, I mean anyone associated with Kurt and Ram.”

“Oh. That’s fair.”

“I especially liked Betty Finn’s answer,” Duke added, eyes running over the clipboard. “Her first answer was better, but she asked me to not write that down.”

“What did she say?” Mara asked.

“She said, ‘claim to have a bigger dick than the person harassing your friend, then once he gets it out to prove it, pull out a magnifying glass. Then hit him in the balls with it, because _ouch_.”

Surprisingly, the whole table let out a chuckle, including Chandler.

“Her final answer was to use your really heavy boots in defense - only works if you’re a punk.”

“I like that,” Veronica commented.

“So do I. I’ve kinda missed doing lunchtime poll,” Duke replied, placing the clipboard back on the table. “But with yearbook stuff and all, I don’t think I could balance the two out.”

“It’s fine, this was a one time thing,” Chandler said.

“Yeah, this was just a dumb question,” Duke agreed, pushing the clipboard aside. “Anyway, how is everyone?”

Veronica raised a brow.

“You seem pretty chippy today,” she said. “Is Mara rubbing off on you?”

Duke bit the inside of her cheek - it was very cute to look at. Veronica prayed that she wasn’t smiling stupidly at it.

“I dunno, I’ve just been pretty cheerful lately, I guess.”

“Any reason why?” Chandler asked.

Duke didn’t respond, though she did exchange a suspiciously joyful glance with Mara. While Veronica couldn’t figure out what exactly that was supposed to mean, it seemed that it was enough for Chandler to put together the very few puzzle pieces.

“Oh, you fucked,” she said in a quiet voice. “Congrats.”

An eye roll from Duke confirmed it, and Veronica gasped.

“Heather, that’s great!” she exclaimed.

Duke gave a huff. “Thanks.”

Veronica held her gaze for a moment, before blinking away.

“Uh…” She cleared her throat. _Say something. Anything._

She looked Duke up and down, silently admiring her appearance while trying to be as subtle as possible. The urge to compliment her was very much present, especially since it was only hitting her now how much time she _hadn’t_ spent gazing at her in amazement.

“So, Heather!”

Duke looked up at her. Looking. At her. Right at her. _Wait… what was I gonna say?_

“Uhh… I…” she stammered. “How are your grades doing?”

Duke stared at her, baffled.

“They’re… fine? Just the usual grades I get…?”

“Oh! Cool! That’s neat, you’re so smart!”

“You… too?” She glanced at Mara and mouthed what looked like, _“Is Veronica okay?”_

Though she forced a smile to remain on her expression, she certainly felt a part of her die inside.

_So this is why I was a virgin for so long._

“Veronica, can I borrow you for a moment?” Chandler suddenly cut in.

“Why do you-” she tried to ask, but her arms was grabbed and she found herself hauled onto her feet and dragged away, until they were at a less populated area of the cafeteria where no one was close enough to eavesdrop, though the chatter within the room was still loud enough to drown their conversation out.

“What?” Veronica asked as soon as Heather released her arm. Chandler deadpanned at her.

“You are unbelievably bad at flirting,” she said bluntly. “I could not handle watching that interaction for any longer.”

“I said _one thing._ ”

“One too many.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Veronica, if you want this to go anywhere, your embarrassing attempts at flirting need some vast improvements.”

Veronica frowned. “Wow, not even an attempt to hold back on the criticism, huh?”

“As your favourite girlfriend, I’m not going to give you false hope.”

“I don’t have a favourite girlfriend, Heather.”

“Oh, really? I do. Mac’s my favourite.”

Veronica glared at her for a moment, until Chandler snickered.

“Kidding.” She eyed her up and down. “Not about the bad flirting thing though. You seriously need to work on that.”

“I don’t know how!” she protested. “Unlike you, I am not smooth _at all_ when it comes to flirting. Probably because I’ve hardly had any sort of practice.” She poked Heather on the chest. “ _You_ on the other hand, have heaps of experience. Maybe try to understand that not everyone has boys drooling all over them all the time?”

“I understand completely. Not everyone is on my level of greatness,” she replied with a smirk. “However, as I am also a generous being, I’m going to help you.”

Veronica’s hopes suddenly lifted up from their heavy graves. “You will?”

“Only because I love you. Otherwise I’d call you a lost cause and drop it.”

“And here I was about to call you super sweet,” Veronica jeered. Heather huffed in amusement.

“I’ll take just ‘sweet’. Now,” she straightened herself up, “practice round. If I were Heather, what would you say to me?”

Veronica froze, trying to rack her brain for some sort of pick-up line that didn’t sound completely and utterly ridiculous.

“Um…” she stammered. “Heather, you achieved the impossible. You made it so that even when I look down at you, I still feel intimidated.”

Heather slapped her palm on her face. Veronica grimaced.

“Not good?”

“No.” She rubbed her temples. She looked genuinely in pain. “No, not good. Very bad.” She breathed in an exasperated manner. “Okay… okay… let _me_ show you what to say. I’m you, you’re Heather.”

Veronica nodded, and Heather’s expression changed to a relaxed grin with a suggestive glint in her eye. It was one that was definitely flattering, and she definitely enjoyed looking at it.

“Say, Heather,” she said in a slightly gruff voice - an attempt to sound more like her. “You’re looking pretty nice today, and I’d like to be able to look at you for a little longer. Don’t suppose you’d wanna hang out after school?” She stepped over to her in a smooth, flowing motion, her hip brushing against her own. Veronica swallowed thickly.

“Uhh… where would we go?”

“Anywhere you want.” She smirked. Veronica grimaced.

“I don’t know, Heather.” She stepped away from her. “That feels kind of obvious. Besides, I don’t know if I could pull that off. I’m just not used to flirting openly.”

Heather frowned. “What do you mean it’s too obvious?”

“If I went up to Heather and did that, she’d immediately catch on that I like her.”

“That’s the whole point, Veronica,” she said. “You think that whenever boys flirt with me I don’t immediately know what they want?”

“But this is different! We’re friends,” she fretted. “I do want to impress her in some way, but wouldn’t me constantly flirting with her make things kinda weird? What if she doesn’t know how to interact around me?” She gazed at Heather pleadingly. “You’re the romance expert here. What am I meant to do?”

Heather raised a brow. “I wouldn’t call myself a romance expert. Sure, I flirt a lot, but that’s always with the intention of fucking.”

Veronica sighed in defeat. “So… you don’t know how to help me?”

“Oh, no, I do,” she stated. Veronica snapped her head towards her.

“You do?”

Heather smiled.

“Ask her out.”

Veronica’s heart stopped.

“ _What?_ ” she barked. “Why would I do that?”

“Do you want to date her or not?”

“Well… yes, but-”

“Then quit trying to beat around the bush - _especially_ when you’re awful at the beating part. I know what this whole flirting thing is, Veronica, I’ve been on the receiving end of it countless times. Rather than trying to woo someone so _they_ end up being the ones to ask you out, how about you just woman up and fucking do it yourself?” Heather leered closer to her. “Just get straight to the point, and then you won’t have to torture yourself with an infactuation from the distance anymore. If she says yes, then great. If she says no, then you have an answer, and you can move on with your day.”

Veronica was a little taken aback. While the advice was a little harsh, it was incredibly straightforward and honestly… made the most sense. Giving a reluctant sigh, Veronica found herself nodding in agreement.

“I guess you’re right,” she murmured. “But there’s still a problem with that.”

“What?” Heather moved a little further away. Veronica bit her lip, rubbing her arm nervously at the thought.

“I don’t know how to ask people out,” she confessed. “I don’t have any experience with it.”

Heather stared at her, dumbfounded.

“You… you have _two_ girlfriends, and yet never asked anyone out?” She gestured to herself. “Both of which are _Heathers_ , by the way. You know, the most popular people in the school?”

“That’s different! With Mara, I guess I sort of asked her, but we already were basically together!” She winced. “And with us… we just kinda happened.”

“Don’t you take all the credit, _I_ was the one who said ‘I love you’ first, therefore I made our relationship official.”

Veronica arched a brow. “Yeah, after two months of me asking what our relationship status was.” She folded her arms as she eyed her up and down. “I wouldn’t really brag about how long it took you to get over your internalised homophobia to confess you liked me, Heather.”

Heather’s expression morphed into a scowl, and from her mouth shot a white, sticky blob that bounced off her forehead. Veronica yelped in surprise, wiping any chewing gum that may have come off on her face.

“Hey!” she snapped.

“Sorry, did that hurt?” Heather cooed apologetically. Veronica rolled her eyes.

“No, I hardly felt it.”

“That’s a shame.”

Veronica shot her a cold glare, to which Heather just cackled.

“I’m kidding. That was mean of me, I apologise.”

“If I weren’t so used to your saliva, I’d be less forgiving.”

Heather smiled in satisfaction, while Veronica struggled to not smile back. Maybe a few months ago, Heather’s antics would make her hiss in frustration, but now that she was able to build a special kind of bond with her, she’d oddly become fond of them.

“And look,” Heather then said, moving a little closer to her. “You’re right in that I don’t understand what it’s like to have an inability to flirt. So how about this; since Heather did a favour for me today, I’m doing a favour for her on Thursday. I’m skipping school to take her to therapy, so I’ll get a lot of alone time with her. How about I hype you up?” With how close she had moved, no one could actually see her brush her thumb over the back of Veronica’s hand, and most certainly no one could see how much it was making Veronica’s heart flutter. “I’ll bring you up in conversation, and I’ll also try and figure out what her ideal date would be. If I bring all this information back to you, will you get over your fears and just ask her on a damn date?”

Veronica could feel the wide smile on her face, and she made little effort to get rid of it.

“That would be great,” she said softly. “Thank you, Heather.”

“What type of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t help you try and get another girlfriend?” she replied.

Veronica chuckled. “I really appreciate it,” she said. “Though, you don’t suppose I should ask Mara for advice too? I mean, she’s actually dating Heather. Surely she’d know-”

“ _No._ ”

“Huh? Why not?”

Heather crossed her arms. “I love Mac, but she cannot keep a secret to save her life. Remember when she let it slip that she knew we fucked?”

Veronica grimaced. “Yeah…”

“ _And_ the little heel secret got revealed too.”

“That too…” She sighed. “Okay, I think I will hold off from telling her for now.”

“Good idea.” She then glanced behind her. “Now, you think you can handle sitting opposite her again?”

Veronica followed her gaze back to their table, where Heather and Heather patiently sat. She calmly nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll be okay.”

“Good. That’s progress.”

* * *

Heather’s whole body jolted. It was as if she had been falling, and she had hit the ground, except the ground was the leather car seat at the back of her Porsche, and she had in fact not fallen at all, or there would be a hole in her roof.

Dazed and confused, she looked around the car, wondering for a moment what she was doing sleeping in such an odd, not at all ideal place. It was when she sat up did she feel an object flop onto her stomach - an open book. Well, it had been open. The fucking thing closed itself before she had a chance to bookmark it.

Fuck, she’d fallen asleep reading the book. _Where was I even up to?_

No matter. She had read To Kill a Mockingbird before. She had simply been skimming over it to kill time.

 _Knock knock knock._ That’s what had woken her from her nap. Looking up at the window, she saw Duke standing outside the car, knocking on the window irritably. Groaning tiredly, she unlocked her car doors and rolled down her window, flopping onto the window frame lifelessly.

“Back already?” she asked. “Did you forget to bring something?”

Duke shot her an odd look. “Heather, I finished. It’s been like, an hour almost.”

Heather’s eyes shot open, and she glanced at her swatch. So it had.

“Oh.”

“Have a nice sleep?”

Heather shrugged. “I don’t remember dreaming, so yes.” She glanced back up at her. “Have a nice therapy session?”

Duke shrugged. “It was fine. We spent forty five minutes trying to figure out why I’m bulimic to begin with.”

“And?”

“We made some progress.”

“Oh, that’s good.” She then rolled her window up again and scrambled onto the driver’s seat, reaching over to open the passenger’s door as she did so. “Get in,” she told her once the door swung open. Duke obeyed, and walked around to the door to hop in, dropping her bag on her feet.

“So, where you wanna go? We have all day,” Heather said, before letting out a yawn and clicking her joints.

“I think you should wake up before you start this car,” Duke told her. Giving a dismissive huff, Heather took her time rubbing her eyes and adjusting to the real world again.

“You worry too much, but if it’ll soothe your nerves.”

The two sat in silence for a few moments, Heather yawning a few times, before she glimpsed at Duke who was staring at her nails. Her stance was a little uncomfortable, her shoulders tensed up and her thighs pressed together, lips pursed tightly.

 _Should I be saying something?_ Heather questioned. _What do you say to someone after therapy?_

“So… how did it go?” she asked. Duke looked up at her blankly.

“It was fine,” she replied, shoving her hand into her bag to pull out a notebook that Heather recognised - the very one she had gotten her for Christmas. “She gave me some extra homework to do, basically.”

“Homework?” Heather could have gagged at the thought. “For _therapy?_ ”

“Yeah. After discussing what could’ve led me to being bulimic, she told me to record my thoughts and moods over the next week. It’s just so we can figure out the root of the problem; if I can pinpoint how I feel when I binge and purge, I can figure out why I feel like that and how to change it, I suppose.”

Heather slowly nodded.

“Makes sense,” she murmured. “Did you figure out anything that may have caused it?”

Duke suddenly became tense and her eyes darted away from her. Heather rolled her eyes.

“Whatever it is, I won’t judge you for it.”

Duke let out a sigh.

“My parents, the obvious one. I feel like I have no control around them, since they’re such control freaks themselves. And… um…” Heather still couldn’t catch her gaze.

“And?”

“And… you.”

Heather’s heart felt like it dropped.

“ _Me?_ ” she echoed in dismay. “How did I-”

“It was nothing you did intentionally,” Duke continued. “I guess I was just that jealous of everyone’s perception of you to the point that the feeling of control over myself was… comforting, a little. It helped me feel like I was on your level.”

Heather frowned at her, her words leaving a harsh sting. Duke still didn’t look up.

“I don’t blame you for that, if that’s what you’re wondering. If you had done anything to intentionally make me feel controlled, I wouldn’t still be your friend.”

“You’re saying I was a bad friend,” Heather grumbled, an overwhelming sense of guilt weighing down her chest. “If I’d been better, this wouldn’t have happened to you.”

“Don’t put yourself so high up on the list of things that caused it, Heather,” Duke jeered. There was a sense of humour in her tone, but it didn’t exactly lift her spirits. “That trophy goes to my parents, I am pretty sure.”

“But I’m still on that list, aren’t I?” she muttered. “If it weren’t for me, you’d-”

“Heather, stop feeling so sorry for yourself!” Duke suddenly snapped. Heather whipped her head up to her, and was met with a glare. “Okay, yes, you weren’t a very good friend, and yes, your obsession with having control over the whole school led me to believe I didn’t have enough control! It made me think I needed to be so much more like you, and even now that feeling hasn’t gone away!” She took a deep breath, and her tone softened. “But you never meant that to happen. What’s important is that you’re a better friend _now_ , okay?”

Heather bit her lip and nodded.

“ _Am_ I a better friend?” she asked meekly. Duke gave an amused snort.

“No. You’re awful, I hate you, I wish you were dead.”

“Likewise.”

The two of them snickered, and Heather felt her guilt diminish. Not entirely, but enough so that she could push it down.

“Now, I say we go and get you some coffee,” Duke said. “I get that you’re incredibly white, but you’re not one to sleep in your car. I would have thought you’d drive down to the mall whilst you wait.”

“I was reading. It saves gas,” Heather replied as she turned on the ignition. “Besides, shopping by myself is boring. Though, I do like the coffee idea.”

“Does this mean we’re going to the mall?”

Heather opened her mouth to say, yes, though when looking out of her window, she stopped herself. They were in the outskirts of Sherwood, quite a ways away from town. Granted, it wouldn’t take long to get there, but seeing the peaceful sway of trees and gentle breeze rustling their left over leaves, an idea came to her.

“Actually, I have another idea,” she said, beginning to drive. “Hopefully it’ll take your mind off of therapy.”

“Do whatever you want. It’s your coffee,” Duke said. “Especially since taking our minds off of things sounds good.”

“Our?”

“Unless you’ve recovered from that bullshit question from lunchtime poll.”

Heather cringed at the reminder. “I’m fine, don’t worry, I just…”

“Hope something like that won’t come up again? I don’t blame you.” She glanced at her. “Honestly, how do you do it? There’s a reason I’d never want the school to know about my issues. They’d pull shit just like that.”

“I dread to think what they’d do if they knew more than they do.” Heather shuddered. “I… I don’t know if I could show up.”

“Hey.” She felt Duke touch her shoulder. It was tender. Calming. “Just drive, okay? We’re skipping school right now, aren’t we? Let’s just take our mind off of things, they can’t reach us here. Now, let’s go get you that coffee before you drive us into a wall.”

Giving an amused snort, Heather nodded and turned her attention to the road, letting herself get distracted by the scenery flying past them as they travelled down the road.

The drive to the place that Heather had in mind was about five minutes - maybe less so. As expected, the neighbourhood was quiet, with only a few people walking around the streets, most with either a clean dog by their side, walking in the direction of the park, or a dog with mud matting their fur, on their way home. Soon enough she could see the park in full view, playground, fields, trees and all.

Driving a little further around the green patch of land, she found the perfect parking space just outside a small little cafe. From where she sat, she could see the row of ice cream flavours next to the counter, along with the little tables that were currently empty.

“Really? This place?” Duke spoke up, also looking into the window. “You haven’t visited this place in years.”

“It was closer than any 7/11. Besides, it makes me feel nostalgic.”

“Well, alright then.” She shrugged and unbuckled herself from her seat and grabbing her bag. Heather did the same, and they made their way over to the door - still heavy to push now, despite being so much older.

“I’ll get us a seat,” Duke said, leaving Heather to order her drink and settling at a table for two, next to a window. Heather walked up to the counter, waiting for someone to notice she was there. Scanning the many options on the menu, she quickly decided on a vanilla latte. Still waiting, her eyes drifted over to the ice creams, the many flavours tempting her more with each second that passed. Even in the cold January weather, she couldn’t possibly pass up the opportunity.

“Hello! Sorry about the wait,” a voice came from the door behind the counter, where a small, middle aged woman hurried over to Heather. “What would you like?”

While Heather couldn’t for the life of her remember her name, she definitely recognised her face from the many times she’d visit this cafe during middle school. She stopped herself from chuckling fondly.

“Yeah, um, vanilla latte and…” She took one last glance at the ice cream flavours. “Cherry cheesecake ice cream. Two scoops.”

“Of course! It’ll be done in a moment.” The woman then ran to the back room, where Heather heard some clattering and buzzing of a coffee machine. Again, she held back a smile. She’d missed coming here with Heather, the homey atmosphere and the unique smell that reminded her of toasted waffles and melted marshmallows. Why she had stopped coming here, she wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe it was just a little too pleasant. A bit too pure.

As she counted up her cash, her gaze drifted over to Duke, who was busy writing something down in her notebook.

Then she looked back at the ice cream.

_Would she kill me if…?_

“Was it cherry cheesecake you wanted?” The woman appeared again, placing a throthy, smooth latte in a glass mug on a tray.

“Yeah, and um, could I add mint chocolate too? Put that one in a tub rather than a cone. One scoop.”

“Of course, dear,” she replied, scooping up each ice cream and neatly placing it in the cone, and then the tub.

“That’ll be seven dollars and twenty five cents,” the woman said. As Heather handed her the cash, she then asked, “Sorry if this is an odd question, but do you have a younger sister?”

Heather gave her an odd look. “No. I’m an only child.”

“Oh, never mind then. You just remind me of a sweet little girl who used to come here all the time. She had two other friends too - I’m sure they all had the same name.”

Heather snickered at her misjudgement.

“And how long ago was that?”

“Not sure. Quite a few years ago, I’d say.”

“Well, forgive me, but I don’t think she’s still going to be little if it’s been years.” She took hold of the tray. “Not sure if she’s still that sweet either.”

Recognition flashed in the woman’s eyes, and she smiled widely.

“Oh! I hardly recognised you, you’ve grown so much!” she exclaimed. “How have you been… uh…”

“Heather. And I’ve been about as fine as you can be in senior year.”

“Ah, I see,” she said. “How are your friends?”  
  
“One of them is over there.” She pointed to Duke. “My other ones are at school.”

“Oh, are you skipping?”  
  
“I guess I am.”

“I see. I hope you don’t get caught!” She chuckled. Heather huffed.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t.” Before turning around to go to her table, she caught a glimpse at the tiny nametag on her outfit. She had to squint to read it properly, but from what she could gather, her name was Hana.

 _I’ll remember that this time,_ she thought, before sitting down at her table, opposite Heather. When she didn’t look up from her notebook, she placed the tub of ice cream in front of her. Her eyes flickered up, and she looked at Heather with confusion.

“You don’t have to eat it,” she said. “But… we used to get ice cream from here all the time, so…”

“You remembered my favourite flavour,” she said, surprised. Heather sighed with relief, and laughed.

“Yeah, obviously.”

“Thanks,” she said, pulling the tub and spoon closer to her, before returning to her notebook. Now Heather could see she had two books in front of her, one more worn than the other. Licking her ice cream (and adoring the flavour of cherry cheesecake that she had not had in _years_ ) she gazed at her with curiosity.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m just making my new notebook pretty,” she said. “I want to be motivated to actually write in here, so I thought I’d make it look nice.” She lifted it up and showed it to her, revealing pretty patterns of ivy loosely attached to the edge of the pages and what looked like three shades of green all meshed together to make a beautiful colour scheme.

“That looks really nice,” she commented, admiring how much detail she’d been able to draw with what looked like a total of four different pens. “I haven’t seen you draw in a while.”

Heather shrugged, dropping the book. “I haven’t been motivated,” she grunted. “But thanks.” She took a spoonful of her ice cream, somehow still surprising Heather.

“What’s the other one?” she asked, nodding to the older notebook. Duke became a little bashful.

“Um… my diary for tracking my calories,” she mumbled. Heather paused.

“You write them down?”

“I make a plan for each day, then write down if I succeeded or not.” Her voice was hardly audible. “But I don’t want to do it anymore. I know if I don’t do anything about it though, I’ll keep writing in it.” She picked the book up, keeping the pages out of Heather’s view. “So I’m going to rip out all the blank pages, then scribble all over any blank space on the rest.”

Heather tilted her head. “Why don’t you just burn it? Or throw it away?”

Duke bit her lip. “I… don’t want to get rid of it,” she confessed. “I want to keep it as a reminder. If I get better, I want to see how far I’ve come.”

“ _If?_ ” Heather echoed in dismay. “Heather, you _are_ going to get better.”

Duke silently stared at her notebook.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, before shoving the notebooks into her bag and picking up her ice cream. It was at that moment, with therapy pushed aside, that Heather remembered the reason why she was here. Or, one of them, anyway.

“I should take Veronica here one day,” she commented as she took a sip from her latte. It was still hot, but the sweet, delicate flavour of the vanilla was worth it. “I think she’d appreciate the coffee.”

“Probably,” Duke replied. “She practically lives on coffee.”

“I know, she’d probably want to try them all.” She glanced at the menu. “What one do you think she’d try first?”

Duke followed her gaze. “Uhh… I dunno. Black coffee, or maybe an espresso. Like a freak.”

“I imagine so,” she snickered. “Maybe a double espresso.”

“Even more of a freak.”

She laughed again, though the conversation dropped. Heather drank her coffee and licked her ice cream, trying to think of some way to bring Veronica up again.

“Mac’s favourite ice cream flavour is cookies and cream, right?” she mused. “Hmm… I don’t know what Veronica’s would be.”

Duke cackled. “You seriously don’t?”

She turned to her. “You do?”

“I’ve never asked her, but as if it isn’t going to be coffee.”

“Oh. That’s a good point.”

“I know,” she said. “Her second favourite flavour is debatable, though.”

“I’m gonna predict… chocolate.”

“That’s a pretty basic choice.”

“I’m aware, but it reminds me of her.”

Duke shrugged. “If it is, then she has good taste,” she said, biting into a chocolate chip. “In ice cream, not women.”

“Hey!” Heather barked playfully. “You two are literally sharing a girlfriend.”

“There are exceptions, and hers is Heather.”

Heather scowled at her, but it was all in good fun. Not that she enjoyed the impish glint in Duke’s gaze whenever they shared their banter or anything. Or the way the corners of her mouth curled ever so slightly into a comical smirk.

Granted, gazing at them did indeed allow her to understand why Veronica was crushing on her. She could see how anyone could find it cute, or even attractive. Anyone but her, that is. The banter they shared was simply their way of healing, their way of building a friendship that had become incredibly damaged. They were building up on something that had been tearing them apart for ages, turning it into something positive.

So _what_ if Duke looked a little cute when she gave her her little retorts. This was simply an insight to what it was that Veronica found appealing in her. Useful information, if you will.

“Are you okay?”

Heather blinked. “Hm?”

“You’re kinda staring blankly at me,” Duke said. Heather swallowed, growing a little warm.

“I was just thinking,” she said. It wasn’t exactly a lie.

She just didn’t tell her who she was thinking about.

* * *

“Is it me, or do all the things here look smaller?” Heather commented, looking around the playground from where she sat, swaying back and forth on the swing.

“Not really. I think you just got a lot taller,” Duke said from her swing. “Me, not so much.”

“Oh yeah, you’re tiny.” She tilted her swing over in Duke’s direction to hover a hand just above her head, laughing. Duke slapped it away, and Heather felt an excited jolt from her fingers touching her palm. Laughing it off, she continued to talk.

“Remember when Mac was swinging really high?” she snickered. “Then you told her to jump off, and she hurt her knee because of it? And we had to limp all the way home.”

“I didn’t actually want her to jump!” Duke protested. “I felt really bad.”

“Call it revenge for her being mean to you when we first became friends,” Heather said, tilting back on her swing, tightly holding onto the chains. “Besides… wasn’t that when we made that silly little handshake? It was on that day, right?”

“I think so, yeah.”

Heather snickered at the memory. “Why did we ever think that was cool?”

“I don’t think we ever did. I think we accepted that we would never be cool at that point.”

“Looks like we proved younger us wrong,” she said with a grin.

“Yeah, who’s gonna break it to them that on top of being popular, we’re also kinda fucked up now?” Duke stated. “Like, oh, by the way, you’re also in therapy for an eating disorder. Look forward to that!”

“Ignoring that part, then,” she said, still swinging back and forth. Duke glimpsed at her and chuckled.

“Don’t go too high, Heather, you might scare yourself.”

Heather shot her a glare. “You seriously think I can’t take the height of a _swing?_ Mac handled it just fine when she was twelve. I can handle it when I’m fucking seventeen.”

“Fine then.” Duke twisted her swing around to face her, giving a mischievous, cocky little smirk. In a low, taunting voice, she said, “Show me.”

She wasn’t sure what it was about her that sent a rush of determination through her, but it was enough for her to huff indignantly, before swinging her legs back and forth, slowly getting higher and higher.

Admittedly, swinging at such a height was a little daunting, but it wasn’t so high that it was about to make her sick. Besides, she had a strong hold of the chains, she wasn’t about to fall off.

“Impressive,” she heard Duke comment. “Now, pull an Emmy and jump off.”

“ _What?_ ” Heather gasped, glaring down at her as best she could whilst swinging back and forth like a pendulum. “No way, I have heels on! They’ll break.”

“Just kick them off,” Duke said. “Unless you’re just too _scared._ ”

“Fuck you, I’m not scared,” she snapped. But in looking at the ground below, when she was at her highest, she did indeed have to swallow down a sense of nervousness. Her fear was drowned out though, when she looked back at Duke’s smug little grin, and she was instead fueled by a need to prove herself. Kicking off each heel while in the air, she counted to three, getting ready to jump with each swing forward.

Or maybe four.

Okay, five.

_Just do it._

Sharply inhaling, she let herself be thrown into the air, and this time, she forced herself to release the chains.

She was flung into the air. She was embarrassed to hear herself scream the whole time she fell, though luckily, she wasn’t falling for long.

“ _Ow._ ” She by no means landed gracefully. She stumbled over onto her knees, only just catching herself on her hands before her whole body slumped onto the ground. “Nice. I scraped my fucking knees. Are you happy?”

Duke walked up to her, staring down at her as she lay on her back, gazing up at the grey sky above. She was met with a humoured snicker, and she rolled her eyes.

“Glad you find it funny, you fucking bitch.”

“I didn’t actually think you’d jump,” Duke confessed. Heather narrowed her eyes.

“You didn’t think that the _last_ time, either,” she hissed. “Don’t you learn from your mistakes?”

“I learn from some of them,” she said, before looking off elsewhere. “You might wanna get up, though. I think that family is heading for the playground.”

Groaning, Heather picked herself back up and followed her gaze, immediately spotting a family with three kids, whose ages seemed debatable. “Shouldn’t those kids be in school?”

“Shouldn’t _we_ be in school?”

“Fair point, but _my_ parents never let me skip school! Fucking assholes.”

“I feel like they crossed the line of being ‘fucking assholes’ when they gaslighted you,” Duke stated. Heather whipped her head around to shoot her a dark glare.

“Fuck off, complaining about all that stuff would be redundant,” she growled. “Just let me be petty.”

“I couldn’t stop you if I tried,” she shot back, holding out a hand, Heather accepted, taking hold of it to haul herself back onto her feet.

“Oh, hold still,” Duke then said. “You have a load of stones caught in your hair.”

“I blame you,” she grumbled, tilting her head back to allow Duke to bat the pebbles attached to her curls away. She felt her fingers comb her hair, in swift yet gentle movements. She kept on expecting it to hurt, thinking her hair strands would be pulled and ripped out, but it didn’t, not once. It felt _nice_ , actually. She wouldn’t have minded standing there for just a little longer so that Duke could run her hands through her hair for a little while longer.

“Do you think we should go?” Her hands left her, to Heather’s chagrin, and her attention was instead brought to the family entering the playground. “I remember being scared to be around teens when I was their age.”

“Probably,” Heather said with a shrug, slipping her heels back on quickly. “I don’t wanna be around screaming kids anyway.” 

With that, they took their leave, walking down the pathway further into the park. They were in no rush to get home, so there was little point in returning to the car just yet.

As she walked, Heather could feel the faint sting on her knee, and when looking back at the swings, she mused,

“I’m sure Mac could do that perfectly now.”

Duke huffed in agreement.

“Veronica too, probably.”

Heather’s curiosity piqued. _Perfect, you’re doing my job for me._

“What makes you say that?”

“She used to do acrobats,” she said. “The other day she decided to show off and hang from a tree upside down - with just her _legs_.”

Heather held back the need to roll her eyes, adding it to the list of things to make fun of Veronica for. _I wonder why on earth she did that._

“When was this? I don’t remember her doing such a thing.” She knew that was a stupid question; she knew exactly when Veronica would have done such a thing.

“Oh, you weren’t there,” Duke muttered. “We were hanging out the other day. Y’know, when you and Emmy were on that ‘date’.”

Cringing at the sheer mention of that date, she quickly focused the topic solely on Veronica.

“Oh yeah, she mentioned hanging out with you,” she commented. _She gave me a_ lot _of details._ “What did you two do?”

A brief pause from Duke. Had Heather not been actively searching for a reaction, she would not have noticed her biting down on her lip or the slight widening of her eyes. She smirked to herself.

_Maybe I’ve found something._

“We went and hung around in the woods,” she said. “You know, next to the graveyard and cow pastures.”

“Yeah, I know the one.”

“Speaking of which, maybe we should make our way into the trees too,” she then said. “Unless you want to walk through that school field trip up ahead.”

“Field trip?” Heather looked ahead, and to her dismay, there were indeed many children scattered all over the field doing various activities, some of them blocking the fucking path. “Yeah, you make a good call. Into the trees we go.”

They both turned and darted for the wooded area surrounding the field, their heels crunching the dead leaves on the ground. Each step grew louder with how much deeper the leaf piles became, and with how much further away they were moving from everyone else. It was just them.

Still wanting to keep the topic on Veronica, Heather spoke again,

“Are you happy to be friends with Veronica again?”

Duke suddenly froze in her tracks, slowly turning around to face her.

“What do you mean, ‘again’?”

Heather shrugged. “You two used to be friends, right?” She gave a small chuckle. “Didn’t ever picture you to have any sort of history with that bunch, but hey, who am I to judge, right?”

Duke didn’t seem to find any humour in it. Heather frowned.

“What?”

“Who told you about that?” she spoke in a low voice.

“Veronica…? On accident, in fairness.”

“ _Ugh,_ ” she groaned, turning away from her and running her fingers through her hair. “ _You_ weren’t supposed to find out about that.”

“I don’t see the big deal,” Heather said. “I find it kinda funny, but there was no need to keep it a secret from me.”

Duke crossed her arms tightly, continuing to walk ahead.

“I didn’t want anyone to see me like everyone sees them, _especially_ you. I’ve come way too far for people to start making fun of me for having any associations with Martha Dunnstock or Betty Finn, so I don’t need to be reminded.”

Heather attempted to catch up with her, realising she had picked up the pace, but running through leaves in heels wasn’t exactly an easy task.

“Heather, I don’t really give that much of a shit,” she said. “Especially since Veronica herself _still_ has connections with all of them, never mind history. What does it matter that you do too?”

“It’s different with her.”

“How?”

Duke paused, right next to a tree, where she rested her hip against it and sighed.

“Shh dsnt try t be li you.”

“Huh?” Heather hurried over to her. “I caught none of that.”

She stood by her side and caught her eye, which appeared to be more glassy. She let her own gaze soften, letting her speak. Duke inhaled deeply, chest rising and eyes closing.

“She doesn’t try to be like you,” she said much more clearly. “She’s not constantly raising her standards like I am.”

Heather stared at her, unable to think of a response. It wasn’t like she was surprised to hear that from her; they’d ~~argued with years of bottled up emotions pouring out~~ discussed Heather’s jealousy of her before, hell, she’d been aware of it _long_ before then. She wasn’t stupid. However, hearing it again, in a soft tone of voice, during the calm after the storm, was difficult to process. Mainly because…

“ _Why?_ ” she asked, giving a half-hearted laugh. “Why do you _still_ want to be like me? After everything that’s happened, after everything that I’ve done, after everything you’ve _told_ me, why would you still want to be like me?”

“I don’t know, I always have!” Duke retorted. “It’s not like I can just stop whenever I want! I can try and tell myself that putting you on a pedestal is stupid, and trying to climb that pedestal is even stupider, but it’s not going to get through my head!” She groaned. “Trust me, I know how stupid it is, but I can’t help it. I can’t deny that in every aspect, other than your moral compass, you’re perfect.”

Heather simply couldn’t name the emotion she felt as she listened; a flattered, yet remorseful feeling settled in her chest, and she found herself slumping against the tree, next to Duke, arms brushing against each other.

“Heather, if the thing you’re trying to be is perfect, I don’t think you should waste your time with it,” she murmured. “Because no matter how hard you try, you can never really get there. Trust me.”

“I know, but everyone _acts_ like your perfect. It doesn’t matter how messed up you may be.”

“True, but that can only do so much.” She rubbed her arm absentmindedly, fingers brushing over her wrist every now and again. “I know how hard you try to be perfect, and to be the person you wanna be and all, but just trust me when I say that you just can’t change everything.” Her lips curled into the ghost of a smile. “It’s like having a rusty piece of junk. You can paint over it and make it look beautiful, but it doesn’t exactly hide the rust, does it? It may look beautiful to loads of people, but secretly you know what it’s like underneath.”

“Why did you have to get so _pretentious_ on me?” Duke groaned. Heather pulled her tongue at her.

“You get what I’m saying!”

Duke rolled her eyes, sighing.

“I guess. I can’t get rid of all my flaws, I can only cover them up.”

“ _And…_ ” She rested her arm on her shoulder and smiled. “Anyone who has known you long enough to have already seen that rust before you were able to paint over it clearly doesn’t care, because they kept you around.”

Duke gazed at her for a moment, eyes glassy and sentimental. Her lips twitched, as though she wasn’t sure what to say. Rolling her eyes fondly, Heather elbowed her and said,

“I’m trying to say you’re pretty great, and you don’t need to change yourself.”

“Well… thank you,” Duke murmured with a grateful simper.

“Also, I think a lot of people would go much easier on your childhood than mine and Mac’s. You know we met in a learning difficulties class, right?”

“Back when you had a lisp?”

Heather’s smile dropped, and she flushed from embarrassment. “Yes, back when I had a lisp,” she grumbled. “So you have that going for you.”

“I don’t know, there’s still a lot you don’t know about me,” Duke teased. “I’m pretty sure I’d be made fun of the most.”

“Oh really?” Heather challenged, staring her down. “What haven’t you told me about?”

“Quite a bit,” she said with a laugh. “But I don’t think I’m going to tell you just yet.”

“Wha- you can’t just say that and leave me hanging!”

“I can, and I am.”

“Fuck you!” she barked, kicking leaves at her legs. Duke squealed in surprise, stumbling away from her.

“Hey!” she yelped, and Heather was met with leaves being kicked back in her direction. Unfortunately for her, the wind carried them right to her, plastering them to her knee high socks. She gaped at Duke.

“Do you _want_ to go? Because I will fucking _bury_ you.”

“Good luck with that.” With that, she saluted her, before darting off down the slope. Cursing under her breath, Heather raced after her, only slowing when shuffling down the slope.

“You know full well I am wearing heels!” she called after her. Duke spun around and flipped her off with both fingers, giving her a proud grin. Seeing her smile in such a way warmed Heather’s heart. She wished she could see it more often.

“I was aware last time, and I’m aware this time too!” she yelled, and Heather had to pause, confused.

 _Last time?_ She took one glance around the area, realising that standing in that very spot was giving her a sense of deja vu, and she knew exactly why. She’d ran after Heather in this very place before, only last time, there was a lot less laughter and a lot more tears.

Personally, she much preferred laughing with her.

“You’re a bitch!” she hollered, dashing through the leaves as soon as she reached the bottom of the slope. Duke let out a squeak, strangely endearing, before fleeing off deeper into the trees, weaving in and out of them with sharp turns. She may be no athlete, but she was certainly smart enough to keep catching her a difficult task. Heather was scurrying around the trees, skidding with each turn and grappling onto the bark to keep herself on her feet, only to find Duke running out of her reach with maybe half a second to spare.

 _Smartass,_ she thought, a determined look hardening her expression. Panting, she slowed down, deciding to try and figure out where she would go next instead of blindly chasing after her. She was waiting at a tree only a few feet away from her, looking like she was ready to dart to the right.

_No, you’re gonna go the other way._

Knowing her next move, she pretended as though she were about to run towards her, and when she predictably took a 180, she pounced. Maybe with a little more force than she intended. Maybe they ended up on the ground.

But she won, and that’s all she cared about.

“ _Ha!_ I got you!” she chortled in victory. She gazed down at the girl pinned beneath her. Somehow, even when she had fallen onto the ground, black locks scattered around her head with some curls framing her face, nose scrunched up in a cute manner, straps to her suspenders crooked and her eyes screwed shut, she looked incredibly pretty.

 _How can you possibly think you’re not beautiful?_ she thought in disbelief. _You’re a fucking pillowcase, is what you_ _are._

__

Duke blew a single strand of hair out of her face and blinked open her eyes. Her green irises seemed so bright, so stunning against the orange leaves.

“I didn’t think you’d let yourself get dirty,” she grunted.

“Likewise.” She grinned smugly. “Though, this isn’t exactly new for me. As a kid I’d roll around in a mud puddle and think nothing of it.”

“Would you still do that?”

“No! Of course not. I actually care about my clothes now.”

Duke snickered. “Clearly there’s still bits of your old childish urges. This is the second time you’ve been on the floor today.”

“Hey, this was to _win_ ,” she said, looming closer. Perhaps a little too close, but their faces mere inches apart felt as though it wasn’t quite close enough. “Which I did, by the way. I caught you.”

“You didn’t need to push me over to do that,” Duke said, and Heather shrugged.

“That was an accident, but it was worth it.”

Giving a defeated huff, Duke held out her hand.

“Well, congrats on winning. As usual.”

“Thank you.”

Expecting a sarcastic handshake, Heather was surprised to be met with a fist. Taking a moment to understand, she flattened her hand and bumped her palm against Duke’s knuckle, then swapped to a fist, then bumped the side of her hand with hers. Even after no practice for years, it still felt so easy.

“We’re not telling anyone about this handshake either,” Heather said.

“I completely agree,” Duke replied. “Also, I’m kinda paranoid about how many dogs have peed on these leaves. Could you let me up now?”

Realising she was _still_ hovering over her, both hands by her shoulders to keep her trapped, she scrambled off, letting her sit up. Why she felt a little disappointed to shift positions, though, she wasn’t entirely sure. At least she could watch her untie her hair to comb the leaves and dirt out of her shimmering tresses.

“You know, with all this talk about keeping a load of things a secret from everyone, I’m glad that I was able to face mine,” she murmured as she tied her hair back up. “I’m happy to be friends with Veronica again.”

_Oh yeah. I’m meant to be talking about Veronica._

“You are?”

“Sure. She’s a good friend. I’ve definitely missed her a bunch.”

“I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear that.”

Duke glimpsed at her suspiciously.

“Why would you be telling her any of this?”

Heather smiled, keeping her expression unreadable. “No reason,” she said. The skeptical glint in Duke’s eye remained, though she didn’t question her further. “I’m glad you can tolerate her a lot more now though,” she added.

“I’d like to think it’s more than just tolerating her,” Duke said. “I do actually appreciate her as a friend, you know.”

Heather smiled. “I can hardly blame you.”

Duke gave a snicker. “Well, thanks for not kicking her out the group,” she said, shuffling over to her, settling by her side. “I feel like she’s a person we all needed.”

“You think so?”

“Because she didn’t put up with your shit, yeah.”

Heather let out an indignant squawk, shoving her over. Duke didn’t topple onto the ground, instead letting herself bounce back, landing on Heather. They both exchanged a challenging glare, but it soon collapsed to release both of their laughter. As they sat together, under the swaying trees and whistling branches, Heather couldn’t help but think back to the last encounter they had shared here, how messy it had been, and how much it had hurt.

And oh, how grateful how she could sit on the ground with Heather by her side, no tension, no arguments, no nothing. Just laughing with each other, how it used to be a long time ago.

The more she thought about it, the more she realised she’d never thought she’d get it back.

As charming as the thought was, however, it quickly became sour.

 _We fell apart… because of_ me.

She stared back at Duke for a moment. She was busy staring off into the distance, her eyes following what Heather realised was a husky in the distance, bounding around happily, carefree. The corner of her mouth was perked up into the smallest, yet sweetest of smiles, her expression soft and relaxed.

It shouldn’t have become so _rare_ for Heather to see it. So rare that she couldn’t stop fucking staring at it. But she couldn’t change the past, she couldn’t change what had happened.

“You know, I can’t blame Veronica for wanting to be friends with you again,” Heather murmured. Her voice was quiet, she was unsure if she even wanted Duke to hear her. But she was sat next to her, shoulder brushing against her own. She turned her head to her.

“Hm?”

“I meant what I said before,” she said softly. “You’re a pretty great person. I can hardly blame her for wanting to be closer to you.”

Duke blinked at her, a little taken aback. But it earned her a smile, and that’s all Heather wanted.

“Well, I feel the same way,” she said. “She’s a pretty great friend too.”

Heather could at least feel happy for Veronica. Clearly she had a chance to get closer to her. Even if it turned out to not be romantic, a close bond could be formed, one that she knew was desired on both ends, at least she knew now. Veronica would be happy, she was sure. And she was happy for her too.

Yet, a twinge of jealousy remained in her chest. It wasn’t that she wanted Duke all to herself, no, not that at all. It was more that… she couldn’t have that. She was pretty damn sure of it. Heather was in therapy because of her. She could try and convince her that she was a minor reason for it, but it didn’t matter. She was going to be brought up, she was going to be spoken about, she was going to be written down in that notebook that _she_ had bought her so that her therapist could read all about her.

No matter how much she fixed things, she couldn’t cover up what she had done in the past. She couldn’t be as close as she wanted to be. They could laugh and joke about everything all they wanted, but Heather couldn’t make amends like Veronica could. She couldn't build a closer relationship like Veronica could.

She wasn’t even entirely sure what more she wanted - what closer bond they could have when they were already best friends. But that didn’t matter, because she would never get it.

After all, paint could only fix so much.

**Author's Note:**

> veronica 🤝 chandler
> 
> liking more than one gender  
> and being useless at  
> expressing feelings
> 
> haha you thought i'd give you two fluffy fics in a row ??? two ????? you've been reading this shit for two years why would you think i'd give you that relief.
> 
> also this fic was posted three days earlier on certain platforms that are forbidden here. idk go on my tumblr to find out more
> 
> anyway, as always, kudos and comments are much appreciated !!!! thank u for reading :)
> 
> https://heathersgameoftag.tumblr.com/


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